


Terms of Service

by LadyDorian



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Humor, M/M, Pre-TFA, Put Dopheld Mitaka in Uncomfortable Sexual Situations 2k17, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, poor Mitaka, uncomfortable discussions about genitalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 02:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12596456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDorian/pseuds/LadyDorian
Summary: "Pursuant to Article 14 Section 11 of the First Order Code of Conduct, all requests for private fraternization among officers of theFinalizermust be reviewed and approved by General Hux himself. Any deviation from this procedure will be met with immediate disciplinary action for all parties involved."





	Terms of Service

It's approximately seven minutes to the hour when Mitaka arrives for his scheduled appointment with General Hux.

Under any other circumstances, he would have prided himself on being early, but the fact that he'd spent the past five of those minutes staring at the dull metal of Hux's office door serves as a cruel reminder that these aren't just _any_ circumstances. Even now, as he ticks off the remaining seconds in his head, he can feel his mouth go dry and his hands start to shake uncontrollably. He draws the datapad he'd been holding closer to his chest, grips it as hard as he can to keep it from jostling free.

_One minute._

His heart is pounding so fast, he imagines the screen cracking from the vibrations, all the hard work he'd put in, the sweat and stress that had dogged him for weeks obliterated in the blink of an eye.

Would that be such a bad thing? Could he pull together a plausible excuse for wasting the General's precious time in... _forty-five seconds?_

 _No. No matter what happens, this is going to be fine,_ he reassures himself, though his confidence remains lukewarm at best. With very little time left for worry, Mitaka quickly catalogues the details of his appearance: Fresh uniform, impeccably pressed; boots shined to glossy perfection; hair gelled; teeth cleaned; cologne applied in just the right amount. All as it had been the last ten times he'd checked.

He takes a deep breath and readjusts his cap again, squares his shoulders and swallows his reservations.

He's flawless from every possible angle. Courteous. Loyal. Obedient. A fine specimen of discipline and order. And as doubtful as any of that may sound to his overwrought brain, Mitaka knows he'll never be more prepared than he is at this very moment.

He reaches out with trembling fingers and presses the call button.

"Lieutenant Mitaka requesting permission to enter, Sir."

"Permission granted," comes Hux's efficient reply, complemented by the hiss of the door sliding open.

At the distant end of the room, the General relaxes behind a custom black lacquered desk, legs crossed and chin perched comfortably atop his fist, his fiery locks a burst of sunlight on the dark leather of his high-backed chair. The surface laid out before him is covered with tasteful trinkets and neatly-organized documents, things Mitaka had seen so often they should have been calming by association. There's a steaming cup of caf resting on a saucer off to the left, a holographic bust of Grand Moff Tarkin guarding a pile of flimsies in the corner; on the opposite side a dozen or so datapads are stacked in trays bearing designations of _Complete_ and _To Be Reviewed._ As he draws closer, Mitaka spots one of items in question propped up against Hux's thigh, the latter's gaze firmly affixed to its screen. Without looking away, he tips his head a fraction of a centimeter in Mitaka's direction. "Lieutenant."

Mitaka waits quietly in the paltry gap separating a set of two smaller chairs, the short trip from the doorway to the desk so unbearably nerve-wracking, his body wants nothing more than to fold in on itself and become a disgusting new display of abstract art, perfect for the space between Tarkin's bust and that silver-colored thing that resembles a Gungan being crushed by a candy dish. Thank the maker Hux's indifference affords him the time he needs to assume the bare minimum of composure, not counting the sweat gathering along his hairline and the datapad still clutched to his chest like a makeshift shield—imperfections he hopes can be overlooked.

"Please, have a seat," Hux proffers with a casual wave of fingers under his chin. "There are additional chairs in the storage closet, if you require—"

He stops short the instant he lifts his eyes, unfinished thoughts left lingering in the crease between his brows. "Oh," he says flatly. "You're alone."

"I—I am, Sir." Mitaka hesitates before adding, "Will that be a problem?"

He can almost feel the irritation in Hux's sigh—hot and bitter and slightly worn out from overuse—its presence accentuated by the tight press of lips, the drag of his limbs as he slides the datapad onto the desk and languidly uncrosses his legs. "No...Not entirely. I've just grown accustomed to seeing two or more at a time." Straightening his back, Hux grasps both arms of his chair and rolls himself closer, wheels emitting a high-pitched squeal across the tile.

"Anyway, I suppose we can proceed without the other party present," he continues, gently pushing the cup and saucer aside and placing his datapad in the tray marked _Complete_ —essentially tidying up a mess that had never existed in the first place. "Though it will require additional time to review your request separately with the recipient. A follow-up meeting may be in order. Of course, you could avoid this by coming prepared next time." Hux mutters the last part under his breath, then leans forward and folds his hands atop the desk.

"Now," he drawls, "who is the intended recipient?"

A lump the size of a small moon forms in Mitaka's throat. He pries the datapad from his chest and anxiously stares down at the screen, rereading the words emblazoned across the top in big, bold letters:

"APPLICATION FOR SEXUAL RELATIONS BETWEEN OFFICERS"

And there, on the line directly below it, glows a name he'd typed and deleted so often he could see it through his eyelids.

He slowly raises his head, his voice a soft plea. "It's you, Sir."

Hux soaks up the news with surprising aplomb, countering Mitaka's pathetic fidgeting with an arch of his eyebrow and a detached " _Well._ " Mitaka watches him calmly roll his shoulders back, though he swears he notices the corner of his mouth start to twitch into a smirk. "It's been quite a long time since I've received one of these. Longer still since I've approved one. But I suppose I've been due."

He holds out his palm, and now Mitaka is confident he can see the makings of a smile take shape. "Let's have a look then, shall we?"

 _Great._ As if Mitaka needed yet another reason to question his decision. Granted, he'd had a feeling he wouldn't be the first officer to present Hux with a personal request for sex, but— _how_ _long_ did he say?

Regardless of the answer, it's much too late to turn back now. Biting his lip to keep it from quivering, Mitaka looks Hux square in the eye and cautiously hands over his application.

With a quiet hum, Hux takes the datapad and sets it down slightly off-center and to his left. He then opens a drawer to his right and retrieves a second, placing it beside the first. After a series of careful tilts and slides, the two are arranged perfectly spaced and precisely square. He gazes at his work in admiration. "Now, then, let's begin."

But his finger doesn't make it halfway to the screen before he stops and looks up at Mitaka again. "You're free to sit if you'd like, Lieutenant."

Out of politeness (and to give his restless hands something to do), Mitaka removes his cap and clasps it in front of him, its brim bending between the clench of his fingers. "If it's all the same, Sir, I'd prefer to stand."

Hux gives a little shrug. "Suit yourself." He casts his eyes towards Mitaka's application and clears his throat. "Name: Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka. Age: 28. Sex: Male. Height: 178 centimeters. Weight: about 81 kilos."

He shifts over to the screen on his right and begins tapping away, delivering each word with all the excitement of a man reciting a technical manual. "Name: General Armitage Hux. Sex: Male. Age: 34. Height and weight: 185 centimeters and 75 kilos, respectively." He glances up with a smirk. "Well, that was easy enough. Moving on...For sexual orientation, you've identified as bisexual with a preference for men. Would you care to elaborate?"

Mitaka squints his eyes. "I—I'm sorry, Sir? I don't quite understand the question." In all honesty, he'd been too busy thinking of how incredibly slender Hux was beneath that uniform to bother paying attention.

"I'm not asking for your life story," explains Hux, with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "More like a rough estimate. A percentage if you will."

"Oh. Umm—" No one had ever asked Mitaka to apply math to his sex life. "About 70/30, give or take?"

"Very good..." Hux jots something down in Mitaka's file and returns to his own. "You'll be pleased to note that I, too, prefer the company of men, though that figure is a solid 100 percent of the time." His eyes flit over their answers. "See? Already we're off to a splendid start."

 _Splendid?_ Sure, Mitaka will take that. He nods his head and waits for Hux to continue.

"Next question: Are you currently receiving treatment for any sexual dysfunction? You answered No, as will I." As he speaks, he moves between the two datapads, alternating scrolling through Mitaka's entries and recording his own. "Next: Do you currently or have you ever had any Sexually Transmitted Diseases?"

Pausing here, Hux laces his fingers together and draws them under his chin, leaning forward a bit more onto his elbows. He looks at Mitaka as if expecting a response, despite having one right there on the screen in front of him. Even with the glare from the lights overhead, Mitaka can easily see the small box checked with a simple _No._

He twists his cap in his hands, shifts around on his feet until the silence becomes unbearable. "Umm…no, Sir...I've always been very cautious." He throws in that last bit of information, in the event Hux were to ask for more details again.

"Hmm…" Hux cocks his head to the side. "By cautious, you mean celibate?"

"No, _Sir._ " Mitaka blurts it out with such enthusiasm, both he and Hux seem surprised. "I—well—what I mean to say is, it's been a while. But I can assure you I am not a novice."

"No need to be offended, Lieutenant." He huffs a short laugh, dry and distinctively humorless. "I was merely going to point out the fact that I have no record of receiving any applications from you since this regulation went into effect almost four years ago. Be that as it may—" Hux eyes him suspiciously, his lip curling in distaste. "An upstanding officer like yourself should know there are _serious_ repercussions for violating protocol. While I understand this policy may be...challenging for some, it is vital in maintaining the health and safety of the crew. As such, it must be strictly adhered to."

The hairs on Mitaka's neck bristle at the gravity of Hux's accusation. "I am well aware of the regulations, Sir. I simply choose to seek my satisfaction off-ship. With non-crewmembers."

"I see..." Hux says, stroking the space below his bottom lip with his index finger. "And what do you do when you're not on-planet frequenting the whorehouses?"

Mitaka wrinkles his nose at that word. "Like most men, I have other means of coping."

" _Ah._ Perhaps we'll get to that later."

Mitaka thinks he spots a twinkle in those icy eyes as Hux drops his hands and settles back into his seat, though it _could_ just be a trick of the lighting. Either option only serves to make his heart race faster.

"Do you use condoms at all?"

He has to peel his tongue from the roof of his mouth to answer. "O-Only on occasion, Sir. And only for penetration." His fingers twitch. "But I get tested regularly."

"Well, that's a relief." Humming softly, Hux reaches for his cup of caf, blows on the surface before taking a small sip. "One should always strive to remain in good health, especially when dallying with strangers. However…"

Oh _hells,_ here it comes...

"Although I respect the practicality of prophylactics, I myself am firmly of the belief that sex should be enjoyed to the fullest, in all its sticky, messy, _dripping_ glory."

Had he a mirror in front of him, Mitaka is certain he'd be seeing red all the way to the tips of his ears. "I-I hadn't—" _Hadn't expected you would relish in something so filthy,_ is what he'd started to say. But he quickly recovers with "—hadn't thought of it that way."

"Perhaps you should, next time you copulate with someone, whether that person happens to be myself or another." He's still holding his cup below his face, the steam giving his skin a lustrous shine. For a moment, Mitaka catches himself wondering if this is what Hux looks like after sex, slick with sweat and other, more tantalizing fluids.

When Hux speaks again, the sound of his voice nearly sends him into shock.

"But I digress. Back to the question at hand...If it _does_ so happen that we start sleeping together, I feel it only proper to inform you that I was treated for lice once, when I was around twenty-one years old. Call it an amateur mistake." He takes a long sip, licks his lips afterwards and flashes a smile at the ceiling. "Though some might claim I deserved it for attempting to entertain three of my commanding officers at once."

Gradually, he turns his smile toward Mitaka. "Needless to say, ever since then I've been more _discerning_ of my partners."

For the love of the Order—just how the _pfassk_ was Mitaka supposed to respond to that? He can't open his mouth for fear of saying something he'll regret; he can't so much as blink without seeing a younger, even slimmer Hux sandwiched between three burly officers. He swallows hard and tries not to imagine what their ranks were.

"Now, regarding the duration of your request…" Hux sets the cup atop its saucer and peers down at Mitaka's application again. "I see here you've selected 'Other,' but have neglected to provide a definitive timeframe. While I realize that choices such as 'One night' and 'One month' may not suit all applicants, it is important to—"

"As long as possible, Sir," Mitaka interrupts, hands kneading his cap into something barely recognizable. "I-I'd like to—" what's the proper word here? "— _accommodate_ you for as long as possible."

"Well, now. We'll see about that." Hux clicks his tongue and jots a note in his personal file. Whatever it is, he neglects to share it with Mitaka, and Mitaka is too well-mannered (and far too nervous) to try to sneak a glimpse. At least that's what he tells himself every time he feels the urge to crane his neck.

"Ah, yes…" Hux chirps as he turns to the datapad on his left. "On to more interesting topics. Under 'Description of Genitalia,' you've listed your penis size as 14 centimeters flaccid and just shy of 19 centimeters when erect. An admirable length, I might add."

"Th-thank you, Sir," Mitaka smiles shyly.

"As for myself, I am about 18 centimeters flaccid and 23 erect, with an average girth."

" _Stars._ " Years of internal debates and covert glances had never prepared Mitaka for something so delicious as this. "That's quite impressive, Sir."

Hux's fingers press into the keypad with focus and deliberation, his voice returning to its cold professionalism. "Although I appreciate the flattery, you should be aware that it will have no bearing whatsoever on the outcome of your application."

"Yes, of course, Sir." He tries his best not to sound too disappointed.

"While we're on the subject, would you consider your penis curved or mostly straight?"

Mitaka's cheeks burn white-hot. "P-Pardon me, Sir. But I don't believe that was included in the questionnaire—"

"The questionnaire was meant to be taken as a guide," Hux growls and strikes a comment on Mitaka's form. "It is well within my rights as approver to conduct this interview as I see fit in order to reach an informed decision. As I've told you, I have _very discerning_ tastes. That being said—" He glares at him, stabbing his question against the desk with the tips of his fingers. "—does your penis curve at all or is it straight?"

 _Fine. This is fine,_ Mitaka repeats to himself as he stiffens beneath the sternness of Hux's tone. _The General is simply being thorough._ Though the sideways glance that Tarkin's glowing head seems to sling at him doesn't exactly ease his embarrassment. "T-To the left a little," he stutters. "A-And up towards my stomach, when I'm erect."

"Any marks or moles, like the one near your jaw?"

"No, Sir. Not down there."

"And I assume like myself you are circumcised?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now, please describe your scrotum to me."

Alright, maybe that was a little _too_ thorough. By now, Mitaka's skin is practically ready to combust. "I-I don't—Normal, Sir?"

With a frustrated sigh, Hux pushes himself up. "Really, Lieutenant, could you be more thoughtful in your answers? Is one side larger than the other? Does it hang low or close to your body?"

It takes him a moment to picture them, recalling their silken skin beneath his fingers, their weight in his palm. "The right is larger, I think. And it doesn't hang terribly low."

"Are you excessively hairy?"

Ah, now he knows the answer to this one. "Not at all, Sir," he replies, moderately proud of himself despite his growing discomfort. "I groom myself once a week."

"Very good. There are few things I find more off-putting than burying my face in a man's groin only to come back up with a mouthful of hair." He shoots Mitaka a half-smile and drums his fingers on the desk. "And since I'm sure you're dying to know: Yes, the curls between my legs are the exact same shade as what's on my head. Though I don't trim them so short that their color can't fully be appreciated."

 _Kriff,_ Mitaka would like to appreciate them right now by crawling under the desk and rubbing his nose against them until the tip of it is raw and ruddy. He stares on blankly and tries to sweep the tickle from his top lip with the point of his tongue.

"But I digress," Hux says, glancing down at the two datapads. "Tell me, on average what is the volume of your ejaculate?"

"My—" He almost can't get the word out. "— _ejaculate_ , Sir?"

Hux regards him with a roll of his eyes. "Right now," he spits, "if I were to pull down your trousers, put my lips on your cock and suck you to completion, how much of your spunk could I expect in my mouth?"

Right now, if Hux were to do that Mitaka would probably faint from the shock. "I guess—about two, maybe two-and-a-half spoonfuls?"

"And I don't suppose you know what it tastes like?" Hux asks, marking down his response.

Mitaka gnaws at the edge of his bottom lip. "It—It's a bit sweet, actually."

He holds his breath as Hux's fingers stop dead in their tracks.

" _Mitaka,_ " he purrs, and peers up with a sly smirk. "I'm _intrigued._ Just how do you know that?"

The sultry echo of his name has Mitaka feeling grateful that he'd had the foresight to cover his crotch with his cap. "I've—um—tasted it on others' lips. And—" He quivers. "—more frequently on my own fingers."

"You're quite the little slut, aren't you?" Hux remarks, putting undue emphasis on the word _slut_. He stares at Mitaka for a moment, then turns to their applications again. "I rather like that."

Mitaka lets out a relieved sigh, if one could even call it that. It sure as _pfassk_ doesn't keep his chest from tightening, or the tension in his shoulders from rising and falling with each stilted breath. There had to have been a better way to do this, an electronic correspondence or a drop-off point, or maybe a trash compactor where he can just deposit his work every time he thinks he has a good idea.

"Anyway..." he hears Hux draw out. "Perhaps it's time we moved away from this topic."

_Oh, thank the maker._

"One last thing, though…"

_Kriffing hells._

"What is your opinion on piercings?"

Mitaka is somewhat taken aback by the question. "I...suppose I don't mind them." Truthfully, he hadn't been around enough pierced genitalia to have formed much of an opinion, other than assuming some of the more exotic jewelry he'd seen in holoporns was implicity prohibited under the Order's dress code. A code he'd presumed was not restricted to junior officers alone. "W-Why do you ask, Sir?"

But Hux merely chuckles at his curiosity and resumes typing. Once finished, he shifts back to the other datapad.

"Now, let's review what you've written under 'Erogenous Zones.'"

The lilting hint of amusement in Hux's voice sends a shiver down his spine; the way his finger drags across the screen and his eyes seem to devour what they find there has Mitaka convinced that things can only get worse.

"To start, you've listed your neck—always a good one—followed by your earlobes, jawline and nipples—all ranking high on my list as well, though I've found my nipples in particular to be extremely sensitive. A simple flick of the tongue or brush of a fingertip is more than enough to get them rock hard."

Mitaka can't entirely see Hux's chest from this angle, not with him bent forward and bowing his head over their work. But it doesn't stop him from trying, imagining the tiny buds hidden beneath his uniform shirt, perpetually stiff from rubbing against soft fabric. He wonders how they'd feel in his mouth, almost wants to ask what—

"What do they look like?"

Startled, Mitaka stares at him. "I beg your pardon, Sir?"

"Your nipples. Are they big or small, pink or a dusky tan?"

"Oh." He looks over his own chest, attempts to picture attributes he'd never paid much attention to. They were round. They felt good between his fingers. What else was there to say? "I...don't recall. I'm sorry, Sir."

"Well, that's a shame," Hux frowns. "But I guess we should get back to the task at hand." He scans the screen below him. "We've talked about nipples already...Next is your stomach, the very top of your arse crack—I assume if you're like me, you enjoy being kissed there—the space directly behind your sac and, of course, your penis." Hux chuckles and arches his brows. "I think that last one goes without saying. Regarding my own, I am in agreement with all of those, with the addition of the backs of my knees and the insides of my thighs. The former I prefer to have caressed with a gentle palm or the pads of the fingers; as for the latter—"

He closes his eyes and sighs wistfully. "I so _love_ it when a man sinks his teeth into the tender flesh just beside my groin." Peeling his lids open, he smiles at Mitaka. "Is that something you'd be willing to do for me, Lieutenant?"

" _Absolutely,_ Sir." _Of course_ he could do that. Hells, he'd do _much_ more, already able to sense the skin scraping against his teeth, the salty taste of it as he soothed the General's cries with his tongue.

"Ah, but please forgive me for getting carried away," Hux replies. "This line of questioning is equally as intense as it is essential. I hope you understand."

Mitaka nods and squeezes his thighs together as discreetly as possible.

"Very well, then. I'd like to discuss your turn-ons now, starting with the poorly-conceived and uninspired 'Hands.'" He eases back into his seat and brings one of his own beneath his chin again, wiggles his fingers. "What is it you find so arousing about them?"

His movements are so deliberately suggestive, for a moment Mitaka believes Hux just might be getting some enjoyment out of tormenting him like this. He shoves the thought to the back of his head and considers his next answer carefully, steeling his nerves for the worst.

"I...like the way they move while working, the shape of them. The—The way they'd feel touching me all over my body." He'd been talking about Hux's hands specifically, a recurring fantasy that never ceases to make him shiver, even here in front of the object of his desire.

"I see…" says Hux, smoothing fingers along the edge of his jaw. "I can appreciate that. I can also appreciate a more descriptive answer, such as 'Hot breath on my neck' or 'The sound of my name whispered in my ear.' Both excellent responses, Lieutenant." He quickly lifts his eyes. "Curious—do you prefer _Mitaka_ or the more personal _Dopheld?"_

The way Hux drags each out in turn has Mitaka breathless, close to shaking. "Either is fine, Sir."

"Duly noted," he comments, expressionless once again. "It says here you also enjoy praise and dirty talk. Now, would you say those two overlap at all?"

Perplexed, Mitaka frowns. "I'm sorry—"

"For example—" Hux cuts in, "Do you enjoy it more when someone tells you how well you're performing? Crying, 'Oh yes, _Dopheld,_ oh how wonderful your sweet tongue feels on my prick!' Or would you much rather be spoken to like a common whore?"

Everything from Mitaka's toes up to his scalp starts to twitch and shudder, all sounds, words, reasoning lost in the wake of that filthy little moan with which Hux had called out to him.

"Did you like it earlier when I called you a slut?" Hux murmurs, low and provocative. Hungry eyes burn a path straight to Mitaka's crotch. "Did it get you hard, Dopheld?"

Mitaka tenses and clutches his cap tighter against his body. "I— _Sir,_ I'm—"

"Don't answer that, Lieutenant," he snaps. "It was a rhetorical question." His bored hum burrows beneath Mitaka's skin, searing hot and cold, responsive and lifeless. Back to business. "As for the rest of your preferences, they appear straightforward enough: Taller men, Authority figures, Pale eyes, Fair skin, and—"

Hux's rigid demeanor crumbles in a surprise burst of laughter.

"—ginger hair. Well...quite the master of subtlety, aren't you?"

He's still chuckling as he returns to his application, typing out a handful of words before shaking his head and sliding the datapad aside. He sits upright and rubs a palm over his forehead. "Right. I assume you'll want to hear what titillates me next?"

Mitaka smiles, his anxiety temporarily assuaged by Hux's uncanny pleasantness. "If you please, Sir."

"Very well." Hux folds his arms over his chest and gazes up at the ceiling lights. When he speaks, his voice is soft and alluring, more beautiful than Mitaka had ever heard it.

"I like...The smell of fresh soap on a man's skin. The tiny thrill I get when I run my fingers through his hair, right before leaning in for a kiss. I like the taste of caf on his lips, the pressure of his hands on my waist. Silken sheets and sex against a shower wall, the way he kneels before me like I'm his emperor. Put simply, my ideal partner should be both disciplined and eager to please." He drops his head and fixes Mitaka with a heated stare. "You see, Lieutenant, I like to give orders. And I especially like it when those orders are followed with loyalty and complete devotion."

 _Kriff,_ Hux's answers were good. If it were possible, Mitaka would wrap his arms around them and bottle them up in his memory, use them as often as he could to show Hux just how loyal and devoted he truly was. That is, if Hux felt inclined to approve his request.

He pouts, shuffling on his feet as Hux turns and grumbles at something off to the side.

"And I _suppose_ I'm partial to men with dark hair." He coughs into his fist and reaches for his forgotten cup of caf, gingerly drags it towards him by pinching the rim of the saucer between his thumb and forefinger. "Anyways," he says, drawing both up to his chest, "I think I'd like to take a break from reading awhile. In the meantime, you can entertain me by describing your Turn-offs."

"Yes, of course, Sir." Mitaka stands motionless and watches as Hux idly sips at his beverage. His eyes jump from the General's placid face to the desk between them, up and down, back and forth, only settling once he hears the telltale _Hrrrm_ of Hux beginning to lose patience.

"Um, Sir? Would you mind handing me the datapad?"

A delicate _clink_ connects the bottom of the cup with the saucer in Hux's left hand. "You're bright and attentive, Lieutenant," he says. "I'm sure you'll perform well enough without it."

It's a very generous compliment on Hux's part, considering how anxious and scatterbrained Mitaka had been this entire time. He only wishes it were enough to ease the wave of nausea currently licking at the walls of his stomach.

"Ah...alright, then. If I can remember correctly—" which he does, of course, having gone over his answers more times than he can count, "—for my turn-offs I believe I indicated: long hair; bad breath; a gravelly voice; flatulence—"

Hux snorts into his caf.

"—rudeness, both in the bedroom and in general; non-humanoid species; excessive pain—"

"Should I take that to mean _some_ pain is permitted?"

"Yes, though—I mean—" Mitaka takes a breath and starts over again. "A modicum of pain is fine every now and then. And I do enjoy it. But I was with someone once, who…" He trails off, flinching at a memory he'd long hoped to forget.

"It's alright, Mitaka," Hux presses with gentle concern. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Mitaka shakes his head in disgust. "We hadn't even gotten past foreplay when they—my partner—bit me on the hip so hard they drew blood. Thankfully, I was able to get some bacta on it before it had a chance to scar." He wets his parched lips and stares at Hux. "Needless to say, we weren't together for long."

The General's eyes seem to soften around the edges. "I'm very sorry to hear that happened to you," he says. "But you can rest assured knowing that if I were to become your partner, I would never hurt you as much without your explicit permission. And I would _certainly_ never cause you to bleed."

"Th-Thank you, Sir." He nods quickly, eager to hide his bashful smile. "I—I think that's all I have for this question."

"Well, if you're sure you wouldn't like to add anything—" Hux pauses for a sip of his caf "—I'll go ahead and speak for myself now." The leather of his chair squeaks and squeals as he repositions himself into something decidedly more rigid, looking for all intents and purposes like he plans to deliver a grand speech or decree. Though Mitaka suspects he's probably just prepared to tell him how much he hates the artificial tang of flavored lubricant.

"Frankly, I don't care for those with poor taste in clothing," he starts, peering at Mitaka from above the rim of his cup. "Nor can I tolerate endlessly tiresome small-talk, an overabundance of body hair—as I've already explained—embarrassing pet names like 'Sweetheart' and 'Wampa-pudding,' and being made to feel humiliated or inferior." He's midway to another sip when he halts and thrusts his cup out in a warning toast. "And blatant disregard for authority."

Downing the last of his caf, Hux sets the empty cup and saucer aside, a little too hard for Mitaka's sensitive ears. "I'm sure there are a few more lurking in there, but I'm confident that what I've given you are the worst of the offenses." He acknowledges him with a frigid glare. "It would be best if you didn't forget, Lieutenant."

A bead of sweat trickles down Mitaka's lower back, washing away the small amount of comfort he'd managed to gather. "I-I will, Sir," he scrambles to reply, and even tacks a pitiful "Thank you for sharing" onto the end for good measure. The last thing he wants to do right now is test Hux's nerves. Not when things had been going so...acceptably for him. But he knows what's coming next. And he's absolutely positive he can't pull through it without stuttering his message into oblivion.

He sucks the inside of his cheek between his teeth as motivation, then stretches his lips into the most convincing smile he can muster, halfway between "too sugary" and "desperate to be put out of my misery."

"S-Sir? Could you— _would_ you please take over again? You see, I'm afraid I won't be able to recall all of my answers correctly, and I'd hate to give you conflicting information, or waste your time with having to review them once more."

Hux heaves a sigh and begrudgingly shoves forward. "Well, that was enjoyable while it lasted. I'd complain more, but at least I got to finish my caf before it became cold." Staring down, he pores over Mitaka's application again, fingertip gliding line by line to ensure nothing escapes his sight, no matter how badly Mitaka hopes for the opposite.

"Here we are—" He declares with a triumphant jab at the screen. "'Kinks and/or Fetishes.'"

Mitaka watches his face light up and takes an uncomfortable gulp.

"Voyeurism. Smoking. Boot Worship. Leather." While he narrates, Hux slips his index finger under the cuff of one glove and carefully works it back and forth, pulling the leather from his wrist so Mitaka can see the skin beneath. " _Mmm_...Yes, I think I could appreciate either of those last two."

Now Mitaka is positive Hux is getting off on this. Or should he keep insisting to himself that the General always conducted his interviews this way? Surely he would have heard from the other officers how painfully delighted their commander had sounded, checking off each of their proclivities as if he were reading through a list of rebel captives:

"—Waxing. Roleplaying. Enemas—Would that be giving or receiving?"

"Re—Receiving, Sir." Mitaka looks at the brightly-lit wall behind Hux and blushes.

"Relax, Lieutenant," Hux laughs, and mercifully ceases tugging at his glove. "That isn't as odd as most would think."

Right. Add that to the list of _Things that are easier said than done: 1. Listening to your commanding officer recite your deepest secrets. 2. Relaxing while said scenario is occurring._

"To resume…There's Roleplaying. _Receiving_ enemas. Felching—well that makes sense, keeping in mind we've established how fond you are of the taste of your own come." He offers a teasing smile before moving on. "Pegging. Lactation—sadly, I'm afraid I can't indulge you in that one, from a strictly biological standpoint. Being choked—"

"Just a little," Mitaka interjects in a shaky voice.

"Being choked _just a little_ — _"_

Here Hux cuts his reading short, his abrupt silence leaving Mitaka to wonder which of his remaining kinks had been appalling enough to finally do him in.

"It appears you've listed 'Uniforms' as one of your fetishes. Is this correct?"

"Y-Yes, Sir." _Really? This one?_

"Honestly, I'm a tad disappointed in you, Lieutenant," Hux sighs. "I never thought you'd be willing to desecrate a First Order uniform with shameful fluids. Not to mention the wrinkles."

"Ah—Actually, S-Sir—" Mitaka pauses to assess the merits of what he's foolishly about to confess. "It would be you who wears the uniform; I'd be completely naked."

Hux's eyes widen slightly. "Is this a fantasy you've thought of quite often?"

"Yes. I—" _Stars,_ he can't believe he's doing this. "I suck you off while you're in full regalia. I'm...very careful not to spill a single drop."

"Well, then…" A splash of color creeps into Hux's cheeks. "I suppose I might be willing to make an exception." He quickly pitches his eyes downward, finds his place again amongst the filth. "Let's see...Uniforms. Facials. Come-swapping. Orgasm denial, and Submission. _Well..._ " he huffs, easing back from Mitaka's file into something more plush and comfortable. "That's quite the assortment. I'm afraid mine isn't nearly as lengthy or exciting."

Their eyes lock again, only this time Mitaka finds it impossible to look away, even as his breathing grows harsh and his hands start to hurt from clenching his cap like his life depended on it.

"What—what are they, Sir?"

Hux meets his insolent question with a devious smirk. "I'm sure you've already gathered that I prefer to be the dominant party when it comes to sex."

"You're naturally suited for giving orders, Sir," Mitaka comments, shaken by how husky his voice sounds.

"I'm pleased you would think so, Lieutenant. Now, more importantly, what do you think about bondage?"

 _Wonderful._ Just as Mitaka had started to feel he was getting better at this, Hux has to go and ask a question so embarrassing it almost makes his heart stop. At least he'd dropped the enema thing pretty fast.

"I—I don't have much experience in it...but what I have done, I've enjoyed."

" _Hmm…_ " Hux casually shifts his weight to one arm of the chair. "And that would be...?"

"H-Having my wrists and ankles bound. Being gagged and blindfolded…" He inhales sharply. "...and spanked a bit. Nothing too heavy."

"Good." Hux's pale green eyes hold a brilliant shimmer. "Because I've been known to engage in various forms of bondage every once in awhile. In fact, I've an exquisite set of tools specifically designed for just such an occasion, all concealed within several monogrammed boxes at the rear of my closet, waiting for a chance to prove their usefulness. Satin cords. Fur-lined binders. A variety of plugs and chastity devices. Sounding equipment. A leather riding crop. Things you hadn't known existed outside of catalogues and wet dreams and your own illicit fantasies." He says it all as though whispering a promise into Mitaka's ear, words so saturated with lust, Mitaka can feel the weight of them pressing against his skin.

"I remember once," Hux muses, his gaze slipping downward, "I had this partner who would beg me to discipline him on the regular: Collar, spreader bar, cock rings—the works." His lashes flutter and his mouth trembles somewhere between awe and amusement. "One night, after I'd strung him up like a marionette, I fucked him for close to an hour, wearing only my boots, gloves and hat. If I recall, we both enjoyed it immensely."

He lifts his eyes and blesses Mitaka with a seductive smile. "Say we were to seal this contract, would you like me to do something similar to you, Mitaka?"

" _Yes, Sir,_ " Mitaka breathes through swollen, slightly parted lips. " _Please._ " He swallows and lets his heavy lids fall shut for just a second, thinks of thick ropes crisscrossing his chest, cold tiles under his knees, leather caressing his most intimate parts. He wonders if Hux would be so kind as to allow him to rut against one of his boots like this, if he asked nicely enough and promised to lap up the mess with his tongue afterwards, like the good little slut that he is.

"Yes, I think you'd look quite nice in restraints," Hux murmurs softly, eyeing him up to determine precisely where to place his knots. "Something red or black, maybe a light grey. We'd use a safe word, of course. And I've salves and lotions as well. Things to aid in your recovery afterward."

The thought of Hux massaging something cool and soothing into his skin with those elegant hands is almost too much for Mitaka to bear. " _Stars—_ Sir, I'd—"

"But as I've said, that all depends on the outcome of this meeting."

Mitaka chokes down a groan.

"Which brings us to the most important part of the application: The terms of our arrangement." In a simple roll of his shoulders, Hux shucks off all remaining flecks of congeniality and slides closer, resuming his inspection with a targeted swipe across Mitaka's screen. "Now, though I enjoyed our earlier banter—"

Is _that_ what he was calling it?

"—I'd like you to comprehend just how pivotal these next few questions are in determining the overall success of any given partnership."

Mitaka clicks his heels together and holds his head high. "You have my undivided attention, Sir." Undivided save for the small part still thinking of oiling Hux's boots with his bodily fluids.

"Excellent. For the first question: Are you open to non-sexual affectionate touching, or as it's more commonly known, 'Cuddling?'"

"Yes, Sir," he answers curtly.

"On a scale of one to ten, how essential would you say this is to you?"

"A-About an eight." Mitaka tries to gauge Hux's reaction by the tap of his fingers on the screen. "I—" _I don't want to be kicked out right after sex._ "I understand it may not be for everyone."

"It seems you and I can both agree to that, Lieutenant," Hux says and writes something in his own application. "Although I'm not entirely averse to the concept, I find my taste for it dependent upon my mood at the time. Thus, I'd mark it as a three or four. Nothing greater."

"Yes, of course, Sir." Mitaka forces a thin smile, though he'd hoped for a better response.

"Based on your answer to the next question, I see you are also not opposed to kissing. Now, do you have a preference as to how you are kissed?"

"Soft and slow," he sighs, "with a lot of tongue." An accurate description of what he'd like to do to his General's plush mouth. "Though I don't mind it a bit rough, either."

"Do you like to be bitten?"

Mitaka blinks slowly. "On—On the lips, or—"

"Well, _obviously._ " A mocking flash of pearly white teeth only thickens the fog of Mitaka's desire.

"I would—I mean, I _do_ enjoy an occasional nip here and there. Or a light tug on the bottom."

"Speaking of tugs," Hux remarks, his voice bearing little more than a speck of its former wit, "I believe earlier on you alluded to the fact that you masturbate quite frequently. How often would you say that amounts to?"

"Ah, well…" Another wave of heat blossoms across Mitaka's cheeks. "About two to three times a week. Mostly in my bunk, but sometimes in the showers." He waits for a snide comment from Hux, but is met with further disappointment.

 _Fine._ He'll do this himself.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know, Sir?" He asks, his question edging more towards "wounded animal" than the sultry purr he'd envisioned in his head.

Hux doesn't so much as glance up at him. "Yes, actually. Can you describe to me how you go about touching yourself? Do you do it fast or slow? Favoring one part over another? How much precome do you leak?"

"Um—" Mitaka isn't sure what possessed him to encourage Hux, or to think whatever followed might be the least bit easier than what he'd already suffered through. "I...I like to start slow, with just my fingertips, teasing my sac and—and the space right beneath my crown. Only once I'm close do I wrap my hand around my shaft and gently finish myself off. I can get pretty wet from it, depending on how much I play with the slit." He throws a quick look at his crotch, still hidden behind his officer's cap.

"Very good. From your personal account and the positive response you've given under the 'Manual Stimulation' section, I believe your methods are sufficient enough to provide me with a pleasant wank."

"I would _very much_ like to do that for you, Sir," Mitaka blurts out before he can stop himself, oblivious to the growing disconnect between his brain and his mouth.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Hux chides. "We've still a few more questions remaining."

"S-Sorry, Sir. I'll behave."

"Now then...For 'Oral Stimulation' you indicated that you are open to both giving and receiving. The latter needs no further explanation, but how good are you at the former?"

"Rather good, from what I've been told." He hesitates, flicks his tongue between his lips. "I could...give you a demonstration, if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," Hux replies in a sobering tone, still hovered over their files. "But if you'd be so gracious as to tell me whether you spit or swallow?"

"Swallow, Sir." Mitaka kicks the answer out along with the rest of his stupidly ill-timed sass. "Without question."

"Good. I enjoy keeping messes to a minimum wherever possible, anal sex notwithstanding. And while we're on _that_ topic—" He scrolls through the information before him. "Under 'Anal Sex,' you've also checked off boxes for both giving and receiving. Do you have a preference?"

"Generally speaking, I'd much rather be on the receiving end of things. Though it doesn't mean I'm not versed in the opposite."

 _Now_ Hux stops to look up. "You wouldn't happen to be saying that because you think I only like to top, would you?"

"N-no, Sir," Mitaka stumbles, "I would never lie to you."

"As you _shouldn't,_ " he cautions. "And yes, although I do enjoy topping more, you'll find I am open to receiving as well, on the condition that I remain fully in control of the act. To put it bluntly, if I want your arse, I will tell you as much; if I want you to fuck me, I'll climb atop your cock and ride you until I can't walk straight." He adds another check to his assessment. "Do you understand, Lieutenant?"

Mitaka understands so clearly he's afraid he might just explode if he thinks too hard on it. And he'd already went and changed his clothes twice today.

"Since you enjoy being fucked so much," Hux begins again, "should I assume you require little preparation beforehand?"

"I—You would assume correctly, Sir."

"And when you open yourself up, do you use only your fingers or do you have toys as well?"

"Both?" If he had to apply Hux's sex math to it, Mitaka would say his preferences run 50/50.

"Do you have a favorite toy? Maybe a vibrator or prostate stimulator?"

A favorite? Mitaka has about three of each. Including a set of anal beads and a very nice, very _thick_ black silicone dildo. Right, he thinks he'll go with that one. "It's large, and—and wider than most. Black. Shaped like a penis, with a suction cup on the base."

"Hmm…" he hears Hux breathe, "I've always found I prefer the ribbed glass ones more. Something curved and long enough for two people. An icy color to match my eyes." He laughs and shakes his head. "Sorry, I know that sounds a bit pretentious."

 _Kriff,_ tempting was more like it. Mitaka's jaw is embarrassingly close to unhinging.

"And how do you feel about anilingus?"

Even closer now. He clenches reflexively, ignoring the dampness in his crease, the burn at the back of his throat. "I—I like it very much, Sir."

"Well, we'll be doing plenty of that if you're clean enough." Hux types something short and simple, then smoothly settles back into his chair, brandishing that subtle smirk Mitaka had grown so fond of. Crossing his legs, he sets his hands atop his knee, his fingertips coming to touch.

"Now, this would be the part of the interview where I prattle on about how important contraception is, and how it saves the Order the undue burden of having to perform costly and time-consuming medical procedures. But, since that doesn't apply in this situation, I'd like to try something different." He tilts his head and stares directly into Mitaka's eyes. "Tell me, if I were to grant your request, how would you go about satisfying me?"

Mitaka knits his brows together. "S-Sir?"

"Picture for a moment that I've invited you into my private quarters, with the understanding that you may do as you please. What _would_ you do, Mitaka, if you were given the chance?"

His tongue suddenly feels too heavy to speak, his mind too clouded to process thought, but Mitaka makes an attempt nonetheless. "I would—I-I'd come over—and—and—"

He watches helplessly as Hux's smile slips away one millimeter at a time.

 _No. This can't be it,_ he panics. He'd gone through so much already, endured question after outlandish question, attested to his most shameful predilections. Hells, he'd described _his balls_ to a prominent First Order General for _pfassk's_ sake. And now— _now_ —he decides to choke?

With a deep, barely calming breath, Mitaka gazes at the man before him, drinking in the sight of waxy skin and crystalline eyes, cheekbones that could slice the pads of his thumbs, a mouth begging to be kissed, hands too exquisite to be hidden inside gloves. All he'd ever wanted right there at his fingertips, practically waiting for him to reach out and touch.

If he looks closely enough, he finds he doesn't need to imagine it anymore.

"I'd start by kissing you," he trembles, "nice and gentle. Nibbling on your lips while I slowly began to remove your clothing. Once I'd relieved you of your tunic and undershirts, I'd turn my attention to your neck, licking and sucking my way down to your chest. You needn't worry about your nipples, Sir; I'd make sure to tease each one thoroughly with my tongue."

"Is that so?" Hux drawls, his milky complexion taking on a rosy tint. "Tell me more…"

"After your sensitive little buds have become hard and swollen, and you moan for me to move on, I'd sink to my knees and undo your fly, slide your trousers down just far enough so I could rub my face in those ginger curls." He swallows the puddle of saliva that had been building beneath his tongue. "But I wouldn't put my mouth on you just yet. Instead, I'd lower myself to the floor and lick your boots from the tip of your toe all the way up to the knee. One after the other. And then, when I'm convinced I'll never get the taste of leather from my tongue, I'd crawl back up and lovingly attend to that rather large prick of yours."

Hux's plump lips hang open, quivering as he draws a shallow breath between them. "And if I was too busy with work at the present time to have sex with you?"

"I'd lie down on your bed and pleasure myself while I waited for you to finish," Mitaka answers promptly, as though he'd done it a million times over. "Maybe I'd even bring one of my toys with me."

Hux lifts his twitching fingers and gives the lower edge of his lip a thoughtful stroke. "Suppose I—" He stops to pull in another ragged breath. "Suppose I wanted to watch?"

"Then I'd make sure to put on a good show."

" _Stars._ " It spills out in a hoarse half-whisper, too quick to be contained by the press of leather-clad fingertips. Lowering his gaze, Hux trails his eyes over the contents of the desktop, sweeping from one corner to another before eventually settling on Mitaka's application. Both feet hit the floor with a dull thud, and he clumsily lurches forward, his words thick and viscous:

"Now, then…I suppose all that's left is to confirm the acts to which you will not consent. In your own words, please."

"Of—Of course, Sir," Mitaka gasps, listening to the seductive edge spiral from his voice like wastewater down a drain. _Well,_ he reasons yet again, _at least this next part should be less humiliating by comparison._ Though from what he's seen of Hux today, he isn't about to get his hopes up. He straightens his shoulders and coughs out the last of his shame.

"To begin, I do not wish to urinate on or be urinated upon by another, regardless of whether it occurs in the shower or elsewhere. I do not wish to roleplay any scenarios in which I am coerced into sex against my will, or any fantasies involving my time as a cadet at the academy. Though I regularly enjoy the use of toys, I will not wear anything that may distract me from my duties or negatively affect the quality of my work. Lastly, I refuse to dress in women's panties or stockings, on the grounds that lace irritates my skin." He bites his lip. "But _you_ may feel free to do so if you please, Sir."

Hux shoots him a curious look.

"O-Oh, and I almost forgot," Mitaka chimes in, blushing, "I'm not comfortable having my armpits or my britches sniffed. It's just—well, I find it too embarrassing."

"Is there anything else you'd like to add, Lieutenant?" Hux asks.

"N-No, Sir. That's all."

"Good. Then I am in full agreement with those terms." He switches to the datapad on his right and begins tapping the keys at a furious pace.

"Under no circumstances are you to call me 'father' or 'daddy' or any diminutive of the term. You will continue to refer to me as 'Sir' until an unspecified time whereupon I see fit to permit you to address me by name. I am above all things your superior, and you will treat me with the respect and dignity befitting my rank _at all times._ Furthermore—"

With each sentence delivered, Hux's voice grows increasingly louder, until it towers over the room like a great, thundering storm.

"—I will not tolerate having my hair pulled, or being marked where others can see. We will have sex in my quarters _only;_ any attempt to initiate in a public location—including this office—will be met with swift reproach. Finally—and this should go without saying—you are forbidden from bragging to anyone on this ship about the nature of our arrangement. If I hear so much as a single person gossiping about the things we do together, I will terminate this contract immediately. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Mitaka?"

"Y-Yes, Sir!" Mitaka yelps. "I-I understand completely, and—"

_Wait, what was that?_

"S-Sir?" He anxiously traces the cracks in his lips with the tip of his tongue. "Did you say you'd terminate the contract?"

"Yes," Hux replies, unnaturally calm for someone who had just been shouting about hair-pulling and public sex. "I've decided to go ahead and approve your request." He raises his eyes and tips his chin upwards. "Unless of course you'd like to renegotiate?"

" _No._ No, Sir, not at all," Mitaka gushes, unable to stop his face from breaking into an almost delirious grin. His shoulders sag and his fingers cease their relentless clutching; even his cock seems to relax beneath a pleasant ripple of content. He lifts an aching hand and smoothes it over his hair. "I'm very grateful, Sir."

"Like I said earlier, Lieutenant, you're bright and attentive. A model officer. I'm confident you won't disappoint me." He enters a short note in each of their applications before carefully stacking the two datapads on top of each other and depositing them in the _Complete_ tray. "Though I'll be holding your datapad a little while longer, for further inspection. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, Sir." Hux could practice his blaster aim on it for all he cared. He's just glad he'd thought to clear his holonet history before handing it over.

"Now, I expect you in my quarters at 2200 sharp," Hux says, extracting a command cylinder from a separate drawer and holding it out to him. "This will grant you access. Bring whatever items you deem necessary."

His thoughts already churning through a list of possible _necessities,_ Mitaka shuffles forward and plucks the offering from Hux's grasp, careful not to drop it as he slips it into an empty slot by his left breast. "Should I make preparations to stay until the start of my next shift, Sir?" He asks, stroking the barrel proudly with his index finger.

Hux lays his hands on the desk and looks up at him, eyes gleaming under the lights. "Let's see where the night takes us. Until then, you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you again, Sir." Giving one last little nod, he sets his crumpled cap in place and strides towards the exit, his heels clicking a gleeful tune in accompaniment.

The instant he steps through the door, Mitaka hangs a sharp right and immediately collapses against the outer wall, back pressed to the hard metal as he exhales a breathless laugh. He doesn't care if anyone sees him, doesn't let his pride keep him from closing his eyes and tilting his head to the ceiling like a fool basking in sunlight for the first time.

 _2200 hours_ , Hux had said. That would leave plenty of opportunity for another shower, a shave and a trim, maybe even a quick drink in the officers' lounge. Mitaka is sure he'll find something to stretch out the remainder of his time. He chuckles softly while he skims over his plans.

When he finally opens his eyes again, he notices Thanisson standing beside him.

He's hovering just outside of Hux's office, with a datapad in one hand and a terrified look on his face, his gaze dancing around in a clumsy arc: From the door to Mitaka, then down to his feet, then back to Mitaka again. He repeats the motions over and over, until Mitaka feels dizzy from watching, and more than a little concerned for the boy's sanity. But before he can so much as wrap his exhausted lips around a greeting, Thanisson whips his head to the front and brings the datapad flush to his chest, his fingers trembling where they hang in the air, mere centimeters away from the chime.

"Tell him you'd respectfully like to call him 'Daddy.'"

_"What?"_

" _Daddy,_ " Mitaka repeats, with a gentle push away from the wall. "It's a term of endearment. Are you not familiar with the phrase, Petty Officer?"

"With all due respect, Lieutenant, kindly piss off," Thanisson sneers back at him. He angrily stabs the button, storming inside before the door has a chance to fully open.

"Stars, I've never seen such _disregard_ _for authority._ " To Mitaka's credit, he'd been aiming for "smooth and subtle," but had landed so close to "laughably absurd," he's actually quite glad no one had been around to hear it.

 _Not like it would have mattered, anyway,_ he tells himself. In the end, whatever the General decides, he's going to do it on his own terms. Though, for what it's worth, that little bastard of an officer looks like he probably couldn't find his own dick in the dark, let alone his way around such a stately and sophisticated pair of nipples.

Mitaka smiles at the thought, and hurries off to his quarters to pack.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a while, and I can't tell you how much fun it was to finally get it out. #PutMitakaInUncomfortableSexualSituations2k17. Come chat with me on [twitter.](https://twitter.com/ladydorian)


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